Something Missing
by l.poe
Summary: Lucy Weasley doesn't realize what, or who, the missing link is in Lysander Scamander's love life.


As always, the world of Harry Potter belongs to the Queen JKR, thank you for the inspiration and courage to be different (:  
This is my first attempt at Next Gen, so, let me know what you think!

* * *

"There was just, you know, something missing," Lysander Scamander said. He was currently sitting in Lucy Weasley's cozy kitchen, tossing a colorful cloth ball up toward the ceiling and catching it over and over again in perfect rhythm, his white ferret was curled up in the bag slung over the back of the chair, his head poking out from under the flap as he snoozed. Early summer sunlight filtered in through the circular windows of his best friend's home, making the relaxed space glow, and warming his back.

"You and Rachel were _perfect_ together, though, Ly," Lucy tutted from across the room, absentmindedly stacking her books away while she made tea, having to stand on tiptoes to reach the taller shelves despite her height. Lysander sighed, throwing the ball in the air again as the young woman began to walk toward the worn kitchen table carrying two mugs, her copper teapot hovering along behind her. "I mean," she continued, "Merlin knows she put up with your adventures through The Forbidden Forest in school, and your midnight swims in The Black Lake, and _all_ those stories about the creatures- what does your mother call them? Margles?"

"Nargles," Lysander said, laughing. "They live in mistletoe and they-."

"Steal things, I know, Ly, you've told me a thousand times," Lucy interrupted, rolling her eyes. "You've had to, remember? Because they aren't in any of my books because they aren't real."

"They _are_ real, Luce," Lysander said, tucking his hands behind his head and looking at the redhead in earnest, the ball resting on the table in front of him. "Just because they aren't in your books doesn't mean they aren't real." Lucy gave him a pitying look while the teapot poured itself and then rested on the table.

Lucy Weasley loved her books. She was as bad as her father, Percy, and her aunt Hermione, though she didn't look bookish. It took one step inside her house, one look around to give her away, too. There were books everywhere, piled up on the kitchen counters, holding up wobbly chairs, sagging bookshelves, and under potted plants. The vast collection of them in anyone else's home would have made Lysander nervous and antsy and claustrophobic, but here in Lucy's kitchen, sipping warm tea and soaking in the warm sunlight, he felt comfortable and happy and perfectly content.

"That isn't what you came here to talk about, Ly, and besides, the question of whether Nargles exist or not is not important. What is important is this relationship of yours."

"There isn't a relationship anymore, Luce," Lysander muttered, going back to throwing his ball up in the air, letting it thump against the ceiling and catching it as it came plummeting back down. The blonde bristles of his five-o'clock shadow at half past one in the afternoon caught the sunlight and shimmered on the sharp jawline his father had given him.

"Why _not_?! What in the world was missing? She was perfect for you, she believed all of that nonsense and was willing to travel the world with you on your adventures… What was missing?"

"She felt it too," Lysander said, shrugging as he let the ball drop into his lap, drinking his tea. "Said she completely understood and would have her things moved out tonight."

"You _kicked her out_?" Lucy exclaimed, her jaw dropping. "She picked out the flat!"

"I didn't kick her out. I told her she could stay, since I'm the one that is going to be leaving again soon, but she said she'd go." Lucy drummed her fingers on the table, her chin resting in her hand, her fingers curling over her jaw to rub her bottom lip, thoughtfully.

Lysander stared at her, his eyes watching her slim fingers movements and then flicking to her eyes, her brows furrowed in concentration. "What?"

"Is there another woman?" She asked, turning to look at him finally, her words bold. Just like her father she didn't have a problem saying what she thought, even if it wasn't the popular opinion. "Do you have another girlfriend in South America or wherever it is you're looking for your fake mythical creatures?"  
He stared at her; his lips parted slightly, shallowly breathing. Her eyes were blazing and he couldn't miss that, couldn't not see that. He couldn't help notice how her dark red hair caught like a fire in the sunlight, or how her fingers curled around her teacup, causing her nails to turn white from the pressure. She could be so passionate for a girl who only trusted things she read in books and refused to believe in the invisible creatures that infested mistletoe. She didn't even like Rachel, but here she was defending her while jumping to the worst conclusions, Ravenclaw through and through. Her father would have been proud of her deductive skills.

Did he lie to her? No, there wasn't a girl in the Czech Republic, or in South America, or in the Midwest of The United States, or in any of the other places he had been exploring and mapping and studying. But there was a girl. A very unlikely one.

"No," he said, letting his blue eyes widen, shaking his head. "_No_. Come on, Luce, I'm your best friend, do you really think so low of me? I would never cheat on Rachel. I would never cheat on_ anyone._" The fire in Lucy's eyes softened, and she leaned back, nodding, absentmindedly twirling a strand of her wavy hair around her index finger.

"No, you're right, I'm sorry, Ly, I should never have thought like that. I know you better than that." Lysander smiled, leaning across the table to brace her hand briefly to let her know all was forgiven before going back to his tea.

Of course he didn't cheat on Rachel, Luna and Rolf had raised him better than that. But there had been something missing in his relationship with Rachel, and he knew she saw that, he thought that was maybe why she had gone along with his crazy hikes through the mountains, and his muggle fashion sense, and his obsession with small American towns that had never actually been touched by magic. Lucy was right, she put up with his crazy adventures and never argued about Nargles, and had learned how to bake muggle pie without batting a lash, but he had wanted more than that.

"Let me see that," Lysander said, reaching for his friend's now empty teacup, cradling it in his hands as she groaned.

"Not this _again_, Lysander, you know I just made fun of you last time."

"I'm really getting good at it!" He argued, looking up at her, hurt, "I met a medicine man in Africa last time I was there, he taught me new techniques, it was incredible, Luce, you would have loved it, he was so intelligent…"

"How did that trip go?" Lucy asked, grinning, "your most recent one? I haven't heard anything about it, and you never Owled me like a good friend should."

Putting the teacup aside, he took his friends hands eyes glowing.

"It was incredible, Luce, the Native Americans know so much about natural magic, it was unbelievable. They taught me more about the power of the earth and the stars and the wind and the water than I dreamed possible. They are exceptional healers, they were able to explain the uses of so many different plants and herbs, they even helped me map their community and graveyards. You should come with me, I'm going to Mexico, Lucy, you'd love the beaches and the jungles." (She wouldn't, of course, Lucy loved libraries and reading rooms).

The girl laughed, shaking her head, giving him an impish smile at his disappointed look.

"You should have held on to Rachel, Ly, she would have loved to go with you. You know I just like the libraries." Giving a dramatic sigh, Lysander slumped back in his chair, reaching for the teacup.

"Fine, then, here's your fortune." He turned down to look at the teacup, twisting it in his hand slightly. "Oh, my," he said, looking up at her and wiggling her eyebrows. She squirmed in her seat, making a face as she leaned against the table.

"C'mon, you know I hate this. Just tell me if you're gonna do it."

"It says that what you're missing-."

"I thought we were talking about what _you_ were missing," Lucy interrupted, thoughtfully.

"Silence! The tealeaves are speaking!" Lysander commanded with a grin. "And the tealeaves say that the thing _you_ are missing is just across from you."

"What does that even mean!?" Lucy asked in exasperation, reaching across the table to snatch her cup out of his hands, pouring herself some more tea.

"Beats me, I just read the leaves," he said, shrugging. The two lapsed into comfortable silence again before she began to ask about his trip and babble about the latest book she had just read.

Lysander sat there, staring at the teacup on the table, laughing and smiling when best friend duties called for it, and always throwing in the perfect comment at the perfect time, but inside his heart was breaking, and he knew that his trip to Mexico would be longer than normal, because Lucy Weasley had been right. There was another girl, and she was what had been missing, but unlike Rachel, the other girl didn't see it. For some unbelievable reason Lysander Scamander had fallen in love with a girl who loved books more than nature, who didn't believe in Nargles, who would rather sit inside all day than hike through a jungle, and who would rather write papers about cauldron thickness than learn about Native American's beliefs on star patterns and prophecies.

Except for Lorcan, Lysander had never met anyone more exactly opposite him until he'd met Lucy Weasley, and the two had become the fastest friends anyone could ask for. As he sat at the kitchen table, feeding biscuit pieces to his pet in his knapsack and filling Lucy in on his adventures his heart sank because he knew for sure now. The girl he loved would never know she was what had been missing in his relationship.

He must have gotten quiet, sitting there thinking about the best ways to distract himself while hiking through the jungles and staring at the pyramids because Lucy gently touched his hand.

"Ly? You okay?"

"Yeah," he said, grinning. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just, you know, I think maybe you've got Blibbering Humdingers in your house, they like to run away with people's thoughts."

"Blibbering what? I worry about you sometimes, mate."

No, Lucy Weasley didn't love Lysander Scamander, and he knew that she never would.

* * *

This was written for Slytherin Cat's GREENHOUSE COMPETITION: Bleeding Heart, Unrequited Love &

Fire the Canon's 'EASILY BRUISED' COMPETITION with the line : "She could see that what I needed was never there anyway" and the pairing (obviously) LucyxLysander

Hooray.  
(:


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